


Be Happy (For What You Can't Have)

by ravinilla



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, F/F, F/M, Gen, One-Sided Attraction, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 21:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravinilla/pseuds/ravinilla
Summary: It's a beautiful day for a wedding. Asami wishes it was storming instead.





	Be Happy (For What You Can't Have)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended to be shared among friends only, but after it got so long, I figured I may as well post it online. I know many don't like reading stories involving original characters or care about them, but I hope you'll give this one a chance. Please enjoy!

It's a beautiful day. The sky is clear and the sun shines, gold and radiant, reflecting off every available surface and polishing all into precious stones. It's the kind of day only Fire Country can produce; the cherry blossoms are in full bloom and a subtle sweetness swaths the air. There's no chance of a spring shower, much less a cloud forming in the sky.

It's perfect for a wedding.

Asami stands in the mirror, deep red eyes scrutinizing her appearance. Formal dress was never her forté, and this time was no different; Masa had helped dress her. The exchange had been mostly wordless, aside from quiet directions to move her body this way and that, securing her kimono folds and obi. She had wanted to wear her white one because someone once told her it brought out the color of her eyes, but it's too blaring—she's not trying to draw much attention to herself today.

Instead, it is a simple graphite garment, adorned with designs of the deep green forest, swirling clouds in a fade upwards. The obi secure around her waist is a few shades darker than her eyes, accented by a white obi-age. A white cord circles over the obi, a few beads of garnet and wood strung along it, ending in a stringy tassel that she'll no doubt play with during the ceremony.

These are stuffy clothes, clothes meant for a different kind of people. Her gut churns while she looks herself over; the pristine kimono, her chocolate hair neatly pinned by kinzashi, the uncomfortable and impractical tabi. Impractical. The entire outfit _screamed_ impractical. She was a shinobi, not a... woman.

She could've been a woman. She could've been made an honorable one, too.

Lingering over such a thing is useless, however.

Asami turns away from her sickening reflection and shuffles over towards the dresser where a layered, handcrafted box sits. She smooths her hand over the dark surface, fingers falling into the beveled black lines of two clan symbols side by side. Her job was clean and neat, stylized but recognizable. This box could be set on a mantle somewhere in a family home, marveled upon by generations in the future.

This is the first time she's ever made a gift for a bride and groom. There had been an influx of unions lately, some kind of fever sweeping the village that left a bad taste in the back of Asami's mouth. She was happy for her friends who had found their other half, but the more it happened, the less possible it seemed for—

"Asami, your friend is here."

Asami glances over her shoulder at Masa standing in the doorway. She's dressed comfortably as always because she won't be attending the ceremony. There was no use in trying to convince her otherwise either, so Asami hadn't bothered with it. Even more than a decade of living here, she still treated Konoha as a reluctant jail.

"Thank you, Masa." she responds in a tone too formal. Masa doesn't react, only takes in her daughter's appearance and then softens her expression.

"You look beautiful."

Almost, _almost_ awkward, Asami turns away to collect the wooden box. "Are my sandals by the doorway?"

Masa nods, and with the sense that Asami needs another moment to herself, she turns to entertain their guest.

With the box in her hands, Asami shuffles past the mirror one more time. It's a look unfitting, a look that will never truly belong on her. The person in the mirror doesn't even look close to the feral Matsumoto Asami.

Before an unusual self-loathing can swell through her, Asami turns and leaves the room. Moving around in this clown suit is a pain in the ass.

Downstairs, Asami can hear Masa speaking to their guest while she slips on her sandals. Walking in these will be even worse, but for the sake of the day, she'll have to stick it through until she can rip everything off.

"Are you ready?" Masa asks, pushing open the door. Black hair peeks over the top of Masa's brown head and Asami vaguely wonders what kind of reaction this traditional wear will get her.

"Yeah."

Masa steps up one more time to push stray hairs refusing to stay in their prim style, and adjusts the kinzashi. Her hand then slides to Asami's cheek, calloused, but warm and grounding nonetheless. They may be at odds most of the time, but gratitude is washing forward in Asami as her eyes fall close to contain emotion she wishes she could drown.

"You'll be fine."

That's all she says by way of goodbye before ushering her out of the house. The door closes.

All at once, Asami feels... exposed. The breeze sweeps by and jingles the ornaments in her hair, and that would be enough to attract the entire enemy force if she were behind enemy lines.

"Relax." says her companion after taking full stock of her appearance.

Asami scowls. "Fuck you, Sai."

Sai tilts his head. "That's no way for you to speak on a day like today." he chastises in that voice he knows grates on Asami's nerves like no other.

She opens her mouth to growl even more obscenities at him, but the bell tolls. They only have a little while left before the ceremony, and to this, she doesn't want to be late. No matter how her insides are being eaten out. By the time this is over, she's sure all of her vitals will be gone.

Before they head off, Sai offers both of his hands to the box. Asami would normally flat-out reject, but she's having a hard enough time as it is in the kimono and could frankly use all the help she can get for once.

They start to walk and Sai, in an unusual act of courtesy, coaxes small conversation out of her with menial topics that they'll forget about as soon as they arrive. She appreciates it because one, the kimono is becoming increasingly stifling and two, she's just about ready to rip a slit for her legs to have more room.

The day truly is gorgeous and she realizes it the longer they're outside, but in her chest, her heart aches and it feels like the obi is strewn too tight. No one else around seems to be feeling the same way. They wander into civilian crowds, buzzing with excitement over the special day, because it is indeed a very public event and everyone wants to be in attendance.

Asami distantly wonders if Uchiha Sasuke will also be around. Maybe not; maybe he'll stick to the shadows like he always does—the on-guard ANBU will likely have a heart attack. The idea is enough to smooth out some of her ruffles, for now.

They're right near the guarded entrance when Sai leads them to the side rather than to sign in. She's already spotted the guestbook, and to think that her name will be written in it forever feels like she's about to sign a contract sealing her to hell. The guards eye them a moment before returning to post.

"What is it?" she asks distractedly, eyes evaluating every angle of the locale, people, and situation as is her brained conditioned to do.

When she returns her dark sight to Sai, he's staring straight at her—through her, really. Through everything she is right now, to the her under the kimono, under the hard exterior she's been preparing since the engagement was announced. It's something only he can do, and she's starting to get sick of it.

"Are you sure?" he asks. The normal derisiveness is nowhere to be found in the tone, baring something... almost worried.

Hatred surges through Asami before she suffocates it as quickly as it came.

"You too?" she accuses.

He tilts his head, though he knows damn well what she means.

First, it was Kiba and Shino, and then it was Ino, and then it was Sakura. Then, Kurenai, followed by Shikamaru, followed by Norikuma and Fumihiro, and finally, Masa. Everyone was asking, _Are you okay? Will you be fine?_ They all know because she's always been shit at hiding who she is and how she feels, even if that's a number one rule of the shinobi life—one must never let their emotions best them, or show. The mission comes first.

This is her mission.

She's always hated that rule.

And yes, it's been escalating like an apocalyptic storm on the horizon ever since she found out, but it's a fury she can't unleash, can she? She wants to spit and scream and annihilate the world in flames, but she can't. And every time she realizes she can't, her heart cracks a little more. Her ribs splinter and press into the delicate balloons of her lungs and threaten puncture, threaten drowning her in herself.

In this moment, she wants to yank out the tanto from her sleeve pocket and slash at Sai. He only as her best intentions at heart, and she _hates it._

"Asami." he says levelly.

She breathes out.

"Yes." she finally answers.

 _No._ her mind screams.

They enter the area where the ceremony will take place. Sai returns the box and she places it at the alter where everyone else has placed their gifts. Without thought, her eyes search for one that may belong to a certain Uchiha, but there is none. It's doubtful there will ever be one.

The pair of them are immediately flagged down by the rest of their friends, Lee's volume climbing above them all, followed by the others' usual fond exasperation. They talk among themselves for a while because there's still time, and civilians and shinobi alike cast more than a few glances their way—they, the generation that is close to legend by now. It both amuses and agitates Asami.

For their sake more than hers, she keeps a cheerful facade. Today is good, joyous. She's feeling it; everyone is practically beaming, the sun shining out of multiple asses, and it's hard not to be carried away by it. Being surrounded thaws her out, cushions between her heart and her ribs if only a little. They're good people, and she's always stayed of that opinion for the most part. Only Norikuma and Fumihiro cast her occasional and brief sideways glances because they know they can get away with it without her gutting them.

Such a sway wouldn't exist if they weren't her former genin teammates.

The bell tolls again. It's been an hour since she left the house and stepped out in this ridiculous get-up. Everyone's compliments barely appease, but at least she's gotten the approval of Ino, which is more than she'll ever need.

Young priestesses begin directing the crowd to order and Sai has to leave her side—he's close to the groom. He, Sakura, Kakashi, Yamato, Iruka, and a few others are go to his side of the table. Kiba, Shino, Kurenai, Hanabi, and another two select members of the Hyuuga clan are on the bride's side.

Before Asami can make herself comfortable where she stands between Norikuma and Fumihiro, someone grabs her forearm.

"What the hell are you—Kiba?" she nearly barks, and he's tugging on her to follow. "What are you—?" He makes quick motions and facial expressions towards the bride's side of the tables. "No, I'm _not fucking—"_

But she does. He drags her right up there in her restricting little kimono, and she does. He forcefully inserts her right between himself and Shino. Akamaru yips excitedly behind them. Asami looks to all of their friends for any kind of backup, but all they do is smile pleasantly like they assholes they are.

Humiliation flushes her face—she doesn't belong _up here,_ not with the bride's closest people. Hanabi smiles at her like she knows her thoughts and thinks them wrong, but they're _not._ Asami _does not belong up here._ She peers across the way to see Sai looking at her and she wants to flip him off all the way to hell, but it would be entirely inappropriate now that she's stationed in front of what could be hundreds. Spotting Norikuma and Fumihiro where she used to stand, they look nothing but amused and she's prepared to jump the crowds to maul them.

Having been distracted with this earth-shaking turn of events, Asami hadn't noticed that the bride and groom have appeared in front of the alter. There are cheers all around, elated cries, and she swears, there's never been a happier place in existence. She claps at the very least.

The village's largest cherry blossom tree soars over them all, the gentle wind rustling it and straying a few pink petals. Asami's eyes fall on the happy couple and—

A lump vaults up to her throat.

Naruto's hair looks stupid as ever, cropped so close to the head as it is, but it's barely comparable to the absolutely stupid shine to his eyes— _happiness,_ and he's almost spilling over with it. She can tell he's fighting a broad grin that could shame the sun from his mouth.

She can see why too.

The bride is beautiful. More than beautiful, she's _gorgeous._ Ethereal. That she's of this world is impossible. Red accents the pure white kimono she wears, matching the paint on her lips, offsetting the glow to her skin and the glimmer to her pale eyes. Her smooth, dark hair frames her face, perfect in every way, made even more beautiful by the gentle waves down her back. A large flower, one Asami can't place right now, cups the side of her head, its white petals crowning her like a halo from an enchanted forest domain. There isn't a single thing out of place. The great goddess Izanami crafted this bride with her own hands, because only divinity could produce something so absolutely... _breathtaking._

And Asami's heart breaks.

The priest is performing the ceremony, but she's hearing everything through a filter several stone walls thick. Her vision tunneled to focus on only one person.

Hinata has always been the single most stunning person Asami ever laid eyes on, and nothing, in all their years, has ever changed her mind. She has always been a shining light that Asami would follow dauntlessly, even if it meant walking straight off a cliff. She would do it. If there was something that would make Hinata eternally happy, Asami would carve out every single organ and offer it to the gods in tribute to make that thing happen.

There are no limits to what she would do for Hyuuga Hinata. There never have been, and there never will be.

But right now, as the priest feeds them their sake in sacred tribute, there is ash in her mouth and dust in her eyes, cotton in her ears and needles dancing viciously over every sliver of her nerves. No part of her is unaffected by what's going on around her, and though her composure maintains strong, everything is crumbling down inside.

There were multiple chances, moments where she could have stepped up and bared herself for Hinata in every way, but the chances slipped by as Asami thought, time and again, _Next time. I'll tell her next time. Next time, it'll be different. Next time, I will say it._ Every one of those 'next time's amassed to her downfall. She pushed and pushed and pushed, and now this is where she stands: at the very edge of it all.

Her red eyes have clouded over. She wishes she could use their Hidden Presence and disappear from everyone else's eyes in every way so that she could unleash the imminent storm. Nothing, not the questions, not the reassuring touches or tender eyes, could have soothed her enough for this. No amount of prep or pep could have prepared her enough for this.

Nothing in her could have predicted the heartbreak.

Another Asami pulled from a different dimension joins in the celebratory drink of sake. Another Asami watches the priest offer the evergreen to the alter in gratitude to the gods blessing this union. Another Asami watches Naruto and Hinata follow in their own offerings. Then Iruka and Hiashi.

Another Asami watches the presentation of the rings.

It is all over, and she hasn't come back to herself yet. Cheers and cries ring all around, but they still play through a deep filter built to keep the world out and the pieces of her heart in one place.

Something nudges her from behind and her defenses yank hear back into her body, and she whips around, only to see Akamaru pushing his head into her side. He whines a little, and she stares at him—she almost can't stop what floods to her eyes, but when she places a hand on his large head and runs her painted fingers through his soft, creamy fur, the storm starts to break.

She coos, as if nothing was ever wrong at all. "Aren't you a good boy?" she asks. "We should play catch and pin soon, okay?" she tells him, flapping his ears playfully. (It's a game where Kiba sets Akamaru loose on Asami and they hunt each other down, only leading to _one_ injury so far.)

The switch of consciousness had been a whiplash one, and as she leaves Kiba and Shino's sides with reassuring glances that she was fine, she walks with a slight wobble back towards Norikuma and Fumihiro. People are lining up to congratulate the newly married couple and it's going to be a while before she will—or even can—face them.

Voices around her talk about how beautiful the ceremony is and there's even more talk about how wasted everyone will get, but Asami's focus is on not falling over in this stuffy outfit. She doesn't feel even half as beautiful as people compliment her on.

Her center of gravity is completely off and she's not about to admit why that is.

(It's because the center of her everything stands in the middle of the ceremonial area, smiling and almost teary with her new husband, and Asami sways in that direction even as she struggles against it.)

Norikuma's dark purple hair is far more beautifully done than Asami's could ever be, and her silver kimono compliments both it and her steely eyes. Fumihiro's kimono is dark in color like Asami's, almost black, and offset by hakama just a few shades darker than his sandy hair. They're both more dressed up than she thought she'd ever see in their lives.

"This whole wedding thing really just isn't for me." Fumihiro jokes. "My patients must be missing me by now."

"I'm sure they're doing fine without you." Norikuma responds. "Naruto and Hinata couldn't have picked a better day, honestly."

A dark little voice in the back of Asami's mind mutters, _They could've picked never._ She has to mentally berate the thought. She shouldn't be so upset just because she wasted all of her chances.

"Takeshi-sensei couldn't make it?" she asks instead.

Norikuma shakes her head. "He has an A-rank, doesn't he? He's been gone for two days now."

Fumihiro frowns. "I hope he'll come back soon."

With a glance back at the newly married couple, Asami can't help but comment, "You'd think in times of peace, we wouldn't need to be going on missions."

"Asami, not now." Norikuma sighs. "Your green is showing."

Asami glares at her.

Norikuma and Fumihiro share a look before Norikuma asks, "When are you going to congratulate them?"

The words that immediately jump to Asami's tongue are, _I'm not,_ but that's not mature or okay in any way. No matter how minuscule her presence is among hundreds, she will obviously be missed. Naruto is such a dense idiot that he's got no idea of what he's done, but Asami's always gotten the feeling that Hinata had constantly been holding her breath around her.

Part of Asami is convinced that they just weren't meant to be—and the other part is ferociously condemning her cowardice.

Fumihiro and Nono watch her take a slow, deep breath before adjusting her obi cord. There's no one to blame but herself.

"Towards the end, probably."

Because there doesn't need to be a huge audience when she admits defeat to an ignorant Naruto. There doesn't need to be an audience when she sweeps away the pieces of her heart at Hinata's feet. She may be conceding for what has to be the first time in her life, but dammit, she still has her pride—her stupid, foolish, damned pride—and at this point, it's probably the only thing keeping her going.

  


The end doesn't turn out to be until hours later, well into the evening when lanterns have been lit and more than half of everyone is three sheets gone to the wind. Asami has only drank a little herself, but being among her peers makes her want to drink both them and herself under the table. Where would she be without them?

Part of her is tempted to leave well enough alone and call it a night, but when a string of burnished garnet catches her eyes from a distance, she realizes that the hole in her chest will never even remotely start to heal if she does.

Her stand from the table is abrupt and draws a few eyes, but she makes a deflecting smart comment that makes some laugh and takes the chance to start shuffling away. She's only a few feet from the table before she feels Sai right in her shadow.

"What are you doing?" she pauses to ask. Many other people are standing too, so them being in the middle of the fun isn't out of place, thankfully.

"Moral support." he quips.

Her glare is sharp and only a little glazed by alcohol. "Fuck off, I don't need it."

"Alcohol makes you grumpy?" he notes with some measure of fabricated surprise.

"No, I'm trying to do this on my _own."_ Her words slur together just slightly, and maybe she's had a little more than she thought—but it's being a good booster right now. If she doesn't take care of this now, she never will. The hole will never heal and the edges will erode father and farther until there's nothing left of her but a hollow carcass.

Pointedly, she turns away from him, takes a very long and deep breath, and then starts walking again. Now that she's sloshed, the kimono feels stuffier, and it's a wonder that she hasn't fallen over yet.

Naruto's laughter is boisterous and bright, Sakura obviously agitated at whatever joke just happened. Asami doesn't feel the least bit out of place calling him out.

"Knucklehead," she says shamelessly, and the table pauses for all eyes to fall on her. That doesn't bother her, but when Hinata's eyes set, pale and... knowing, she almost crumbles apart then and there.

"Asami!" he greets jovially, standing. "Thanks for standing with Hinata."

She masks her glare with a lazy smile and waves it off. "I don't know why _you're_ thanking me." she responds with only a little bite. "She's one of my closest friends, of course I would."

It goes right over Naruto's head, but Kakashi and Sakura—and most importantly, Hinata—notice. None of them call her out on it, thankfully, which would've turned out ugly for everyone.

"Anyway, we need to talk."

Naruto stops rubbing the back of his head and frowns with raised brows. "Yeah?"

Asami starts shuffling away, but not before she calls back, "Don't worry, Hina-hime, I'll bring your husband back in one piece!"

She completely ignores the way Sakura mutters under her breath, _Are you sure?_

(She's not, honestly.)

 

"Something wrong, Asami?" Naruto asks when they're away from all eyes (well, most eyes as ANBU are stationed around and likely wary of anyone alone with Naruto at a time like this.)

With one, final moment to compose herself, Asami turns around. Only half of her face is visible by the lanterns' low light and it casts her as a little more threatening than she is at the moment. Naruto at least has enough sense that the conversation is about to carry weight and sobriety sets into the air around them.

"Nothing's wrong." she promises, though it's has a little lie in it. "I just wanna talk to you. About Hinata."

He becomes even more attentive. Asami takes a slow, steady breath, and then looks him right in the eyes.

"I'm in love with her." she says flatly.

Naruto freezes and she doesn't miss one of the hidden ANBU's sharp inhale.

"Wh—"

"Don't." Asami holds a hand up. "I'm not doing this to steal her from you. We're adults now and I'm working around everything. Being here's been a nightmare."

Shock is made more severe by the lighting on Naruto's face, but there's no offense taken.

"I love her more than I've ever loved anyone in my entire life. That's... a long time. Ever since we were children, I have. And I won't lie, I'm not happy right now." Naruto lets her speak because that's what he does. It's how he's garnered as much support as he has. "...But it'll pass. Someday, I'll stop hurting. But now, as someone whose heart's just been shattered in too many pieces to fathom, I'm asking you—I'll get on my knees if I have to, Naruto, don't make me do that, dammit."

He's about to reach out to touch her in consolation, and she wants to snap that she doesn't need his pity, but that's not right. Naruto doesn't _pity_. He never has, and it's one of the best things about him. He empathizes, even where he can't understand. He's a fool in every way and always has been, but at least he's a good fool.

"Promise me, Naruto." she says after quelling a trembling breath. "Promise me you'll take care of her and love her and help her be happy in all the ways I could never. I was—" She clenches her jaw and an urge to beat the life out of something flashes by for a dark, dark moment before it's gone. "...I was too damn cowardly. So please," Red eyes meet blue squarely. "I don't have to tell you how precious she is in every way. Be the person she deserves."

When the last words leave her mouth, she's utterly boneless and wants nothing more than to collapse. At least all of her words came out steady and she didn't start crying in the middle like some wishy-washy sod.

Naruto breaks out into the bright beam that only he can produce and grabs her hands from their fold in front of her obi.

"Asami, you're so amazing and cool." he says like they're still young teenagers, but they aren't. Not with the depth in his eyes and the maturity they hold. "Thank you. I can always count on you to be honest, y'know? You've always been upfront. And I'm sor—"

"If you apologize to me, I'll slit your tongue out of your mouth right here and steal her away." Asami growls.

Naruto blinks a few stupid times, but then laughs it off and lets go to rub under his nose. "Right, my bad." he says. "I dunno if I'll make you proud, but I promise," He gives his signature thumbs up, "I'll make her the happiest I can. I know how lucky I am."

All at once, Asami decompresses. It's not right to act like she's _handing over_ Hinata as if she's some object, but for the longest time, she saw herself as the only one who could do right by her. That's not the case, and maybe it never has been. Naruto grins at her, holds his thumb up, and swears he'll do what she never could—and even if it'll never fill the hole in her, it's enough to smooth the cracks a little.

She has to find a nearby seat before she drops right there. She waves her hand at Naruto like he's a burden now. "You can go now, Prince Charming. I need to down the rest of the alcohol this place has before the night is over."

"You sound like Granny Tsunade!" Naruto laughs, but takes the hint that she wants some alone time.

Before he's disappeared though, Asami hears a soft voice say, "Naruto-kun?" and she freezes.

The ANBU who had been eavesdropping on their soap opera-fueled conversation gasps yet again. They must have a flair for the dramatic.

"Hinata!" Naruto greets cheerfully. "Hey, what's up?"

Asami sits stiffly where she is and begs to Miyado to let her be left alone.

Her prayers go unanswered.

"I'll see you back inside, then." Naruto says, but he doesn't sound concerned in the least bit. He should be, because Asami may very well kill herself before this is all over.

 _I'm a good person,_ she lies to herself, _I deserve to find inner peace._

"Asami-chan."

But she's not a good person, nor is she strong—because she so wishes that voice was one she could go home to every day for the rest of her life, and it's messing her up. She props herself against the table behind her.

"Hinata." she says slowly, like she's unsure if they're speaking the same language anymore.

The chair rustles next to her and when she winks one eye open from where her head is tilted back, Hinata has taken a seat. Her kimono flows around her, the moonlight shining off of it and serving to make her look like a descendant of Tsukuyomi himself.

"You look beautiful." she comments almost miserably, because it's useless to hide what utter shit she's feeling like to her childhood friend. "Marriage suits you."

Hinata's laugh is soft. "Do you think so? I was so nervous today..." she says. "Asami-chan, you look very beautiful too."

Asami's snort is derisive. "In this monkey suit? Gods, I haven't been able to breathe for _hours_ now. I'm dying, Hina."

This mellow conversation _burns,_ tears her apart from the inside out. Whether or not the love of her life is married to someone else, someone who will _never be her,_ she can still _have this._ Did she ever deserve it in the first place?

"You still look wonderful." Hinata insists. "But yes, I think I'll be happy to change out of these garments as soon as I can." She sighs.

The garnet shine that originally caught her eye in the first place does it again, and Asami asks, "How are you and lover boy liking the necklaces?"

Hinata's hand reaches up to run pretty, delicate fingers over the smooth beads. "They're heavy." she responds honestly, which could mean several different things. "But... They're beautiful, only something dedicated hands could make."

Asami snorts again. "You're giving me too much credit. There's some protective seals in there, y'know. One of them can trigger Hidden Presence—well, a genjutsu _like_ Hidden Presence, if you channel your chakra into it."

"It's just like Asami-chan to be practical." Hinata murmurs fondly. That tone makes her want to beg and plead, and Asami has to ignore it.

Instead, her head naturally rolls in Hinata's direction, her kinzashi jingling. "How's it feel to be a married woman now?"

Hinata ducks her head slightly, happiness pulling at her mouth like she still can't quite believe it. She should join the party. "Much the same." she finally replies, and when she looks in Asami's direction, Asami has to look away. "I'm... so happy, Asami-chan."

Asami closes her eyes almost too tightly and fights against any part of her face straining. "I know." she says, just above a whisper. "I'm happy for you." It's only half of a lie.

When a soft hand falls on top of hers, she flinches too much. Hinata gazes earnestly at her and she rubs her hand as if mere touched had burned it.

"...Sorry." she says, voice small.

It's quiet for a long moment while she avoids Hinata's pale eyes that study her. Her throat works around a painful knot as she tries to keep up even breathing. Years of training, put to shame because of ridiculous, onerous _emotions._ They may as well strip her of her ANBU rank now.

"Asami-chan." Hinata leans to grab her hand again, and Asami lets her this time, if not reluctantly. "I want you to be happy too."

Emotion sluices forward and Asami sucks in so sharply that it stings her lungs. "Hinata..." she breathes, too unstable for anything above a broken whisper.

Hinata grabs her other hand too. Their hands are almost the same size, the favor on Asami's side, but the contrast of their skin is stark—brown against white, warm against cool.

"I'm happy, Asami-chan." she promises resolutely. "And I want you to be happy, too. Promise me, Asami-chan, promise me you'll find happiness too."

And that's when the flood gates break.

Asami begins to sob. There's no regard for the eyes watching or the ears that may be nearby, no regard for the makeup painted on her face, and she cries. It's not the right thing to do at all—cry out of sorrow at someone's wedding, but this has been building and building and _building_ and she's been trying so hard so so hard to hold it all in and be the good friend should be but it's been so _hard_ and there's no one to blame but herself but that _doesn't stop the pain it doesn't stop it's not stopping she can't stop—_

Cool hands, impossibly soft and grounding, gently clasp her face. The world stops.

There is no one but them.

Hinata tilts her forehead to press warmly against Asami's. Asami can't stop herself from reaching up to place her own hands on top.

"I'm s-sorry," she sobs, her fingers curling into Hinata's palms. "I'm sorry, I'm _sorry,_ I w-wish—"

Hinata shushes her tenderly. "Sometimes..." she begins slowly, pacifying emotion of her own, "There are things that aren't meant to be, and that's okay." Her voice is soft and Asami ties it around herself like an anchor's chain. "We won't always have what we... want, and that's okay too. The best any of us can do is strive for happiness, and... Even if it doesn't last forever, we may have become better people for having it in the first place."

Asami's face is still scrunched tightly, jaw clenched and hold a little too rigid, but Hinata doesn't seem to mind.

"You _will_ find happiness." Hinata says with her quiet strength. "You're an amazing, talented, wonderful, _beautiful_ soul, Asami-chan, and I know someone will see that. And they will love you and make you happy and help you be the best you can be."

The way she says it, it's almost _believable._ The maelstrom still swirls strong, but Hinata's voice, even if the words aren't so much at the moment, is a balm and lends her the needle and thread she'll need to sew close the hole in her chest.

"Will you promise me to try and find your own happiness?" Hinata murmurs after giving her time to collect herself and her dignity.

Asami breathes out shakily and brings their hands down to their laps. They really are so different.

"I..." She's never been that great at lying, not to Hinata. "I... promise to t-try." The cracks in her rasp are embarrassing.

Slowly, they sink back into the world around them, but Hinata hasn't let go of Asami's hands, nor has she moved her forehead. Asami is grateful, but it's making things a little more difficult. _She_ has to be the one to separate herself. _She_ has to step back first.

With a final, mitigating sigh, she pulls back. Hinata goes to reach into her obi for a handkerchief, but Asami stops her and reaches into her own. It's not like she knew whether this would be her breaking point or not, but fortune favored the prepared. Hinata did always have a way of taking her off guard.

What a relief it is that no one else seems to be around other than the ANBU guards. In fact, Asami glances over Hinata's shoulder and sees two more have the area cordoned off for their privacy. She's more grateful than she'll ever say.

Hinata's hands are folded neatly in her lap, but there's a taut line across her shoulder. Asami huffs a wet laugh.

"I'm better now, Hina-hime." she says, and knows the use of her nickname will loosen things up. "Sorry about that, you know what a dolt I can be."

"Don't apologize." Hinata says firmly. "And don't put yourself down."

 _"Yes,_ Hina-hime." she rolls her eyes, wiping at her ruined face. "I'm _never_ wearing makeup again."

"The white eyeliner brings out your eyes. The wing is perfect."

"Oh, you think so, huh?" she asks. "It better be though, I did that shit myself."

Hinata indulges her in a smile. "Yes, it was very professional before your ruined it."

"Listen..." Asami says as an empty threat. "Masa says I cry like I do everything else—with spunk."

"Masa-san always did know how to put things best with you." Hinata laughs.

They stand up. Asami reaches forward to adjust the flower adorning Hinata's head and sets a few stray hairs back neatly. "Congratulations, Hinata. I hope that you'll be the happiest person alive."

Hinata grasps her hand and curls it in her own. "No. I know _you'll_ become the happiest."

Asami is hard-pressed to not breakdown again then and there.

"You better go before your husband thinks I've made off with you like a bandit." Asami says, only half-joking.

"Be safe on your way home, Asami-chan." Hinata says, because they both know she won't be returning to the reception.

She grasps Asami's face one last time and brings her down to kiss her on the forehead. Warmth swells through Asami and her eyes fall close on their own.

And then Hinata is gone.

Dumbfounded, Asami stands there. The guards have disappeared and she's finally alone. This is the perfect time to drop her strong front and cry more, but oddly enough, she doesn't feel like it at the moment. Maybe later, when the self-loathing kicks back in.

She stands, suspended in a daze while infinite warmth beams through her body from the single spot on her forehead.

 _Ah,_ she thinks to herself, _I really missed out, didn't I?_

Before the thought can drag her back to that dark place, a voice calls out her name.

"Asami."

She turns to find Sai standing by one of the lantern posts. Her eyes narrow.

"You weren't _spying,_ were you?"

A small smile plays on his lips because they both know he doesn't need to have spied to know what took place before now.

"Are you ready to go home?" is what he asks instead.

She sighs dismally, dramatically. "Definitely. Remind me not to come to the next wedding, especially if I gotta wear this jail again." She tugs resentfully at the kimono. There are drying teardrops on the fabric where her lap would be. They're almost gone.

They start to walk, but Asami stops to yank off both her sandals and the tabi, and then pulls loose her obi cord and the obi itself. _"Finally."_ she sighs in relief.

"Won't the bare ground be even more uncomfortable?"

"Yeah, so will my tanto against your tongue if you don't mind your business."

Sai laughs at the empty threat.

"It's a beautiful night." he comments.

Asami glances at the full moon as cherry blossom petals dance over the wind. "It is, huh?" Far more beautiful than the day had been, anyway.

"Hey," she suddenly says, and Sai glances sideways at her. "so are we gonna have more drawing lessons or what?"

And Sai smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> If there were terms you didn't recognize, feel free to look them up! Every one of them is real (except for Miyado, which is the goddess of the hunt in my OC's verse, and the main deity her clan worships.) I hope you enjoyed reading!
> 
> If you're interested in reading more, please check out my followup fic, [Reconciliation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14345178)! It features an emotionally distressed Asami along with an emotionally constipated Sasuke and a little of them trying to find themselves while trying not to kill each other! Please check it out. :^)


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